Afterthoughts - There's No Place Like Plrtz Glrb
by Goddess Isa
Summary: Angel finds out about Buffy’s death and other things


TITLE: Afterthoughts - There's No Place Like Plrtz Glrb  
AUTHOR: Goddess Isa  
EMAIL: goddessisa@aol.com  
SUMMARY: Angel finds out about Buffy's death and other things  
SPOILER: There's No Place Like Plrtz Glrb, The Gift & my Afterthoughts - The Gift story available at my website, http://planetslaythis.homestead.com  
RATING: TV-PG  
DISTRIBUTION: see above - anyone who wants it - http://planetangelus.homestead.com  
DISCLAIMER: Everyone belongs to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt and the WB  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I can't believe it's over.  
AUTHOR'S NOTES 2: This is a sequel to Afterthoughts - The Gift, which is readable at http://www.fanfiction.net/index.fic?action=story-read&storyid=295926  
5/26/01  
  
  
  
"Buffy." It was a statement. Angel knew what had happened. He knew the minute he saw Willow sitting there, he just didn't wanna believe it.  
  
He *couldn't* believe it.  
  
"It was very....we hope there wasn't any pain," Willow said. "She looked....peaceful when it--" she couldn't help being distracted by Cordelia. "What on Earth are you wearing?" she asked. Then Willow blushed in Angel's direction and added, "Sorry. Distraction tactic."  
  
"Buffy's dead?" Cordy whispered. Willow had never seen Cordelia cry before. She was even more surprised when Cordelia walked over and hugged her.  
  
"I'm sorry, Willow," she said quietly. "I know Buffy was your best friend."  
  
Then she turned to Angel and fell sobbing against his chest.  
  
"I think we should leave you alone," Wesley said, prying Cordelia off of him. "We have no place here. I'm very sorry, Angel. You know where to call if you need a friend."  
  
Angel only nodded. He was in another place, his brain nearly exploding. She couldn't be dead. Not Buffy. Not his sweet, precious, beautiful Buffy.  
  
"I should've been there," was the first thing Angel said when only he and Willow remained in the hotel.  
  
"No, Angel, no," Willow sat back down and Angel began pacing in front of her. "You wouldn't have wanted to--"  
  
"I could've saved her," he began speaking fast. "I could've done something. I could've pushed her out of harm's way, I could've--"  
  
"Angel, Buffy killed herself!" Willow shouted. When Angel glared at her, she said, "Not like that, I mean....she died to save Dawn. To save us all."  
  
Angel sat down next to Willow, his eyes staring at the ground. He played with a frayed thread on his shirt and asked, "What happened?"  
  
"I'm guessing you want the long version." she reached behind the couch and retrieved a box of Kleenex.  
  
"You always did come prepared."  
  
"It was the big battle with Glory," Willow began.  
  
"I knew it!" Angel stood and began pacing. He soon was walking the entire grounds of the hotel's main floor, over and over, not listening to anything Willow was saying.  
  
"Angel?" she stopped him one time when he walked past her. "Since when are you so peripatetic?"  
  
The vampire stopped and stared at her. "Peripatetic?" he repeated.  
  
"I'm taking an advanced vocab class. Listen, maybe I should just come back in the morning. There's a hotel down the--"  
  
"This is a hotel. You're staying here," Angel said flatly. "How's Dawn handling this?"  
  
"Why don't you ask me yourself?"  
  
Angel whirled around and Dawn flew at him, throwing her arms around his neck and sobbing into his chest. He held her close, his hand smoothing her hair as they sobbed together over their tragic loss.  
  
Neither of them noticed when Willow slipped upstairs to sleep.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
"I can't," Dawn pulled away, her voice hoarse. Hours had passed--she wasn't sure how many--but the sunlight peeking through the blinds was bright. Angel let her free and she sat on the couch, wincing.  
  
"Can I get you anything?" Angel asked. "You should probably eat. I have Cheerios, and Cordy likes those marshmallow--"  
  
"I don't want anything," Dawn said quietly. "I've done this before, remember?"  
  
Angel nodded. He couldn't imagine how Dawn was feeling right now. He put his own pain aside for her and stared at her. "Is there anything you want me to do? I mean, for the--"  
  
"I can't think about that now," Dawn said quietly. "Do you wanna go for a walk?"  
  
Angel glanced towards the window.  
  
"I mean here," she added quickly. "This place is huge."  
  
"We should probably leave Willow a note," Angel suggested. "She won't know where to find us."  
  
"It's okay," Dawn headed towards the stairs. "Tell me something."  
  
Angel followed her up the staircase, staying a stair or two behind her at all times. "Anything."  
  
"I wanna know what it was like. Dying."  
  
"It wasn't the same for me. I was turned."  
  
"No, I mean the other time. When she..."  
  
"It hurt," Angel answered quickly. "It still would've been different for her."  
  
"Would it have?" Dawn stopped walking and looked at him. "You died to save her. She died to save me. Sounds the same."  
  
"It wasn't." Angel walked past Dawn and opened the door to the attic staircase.  
  
"I have to know something else," Dawn stared at the floor.  
  
"What?"  
  
"If you had been there...if there had been time....could you have turned her, and still stopped the ritual?"  
  
Angel thought about it. Willow and Giles hadn't told him enough about the ritual before he left for Pylea for him to make a definite decision.  
  
"I don't know," he finally told her. "I wish I did."  
  
"I wish a lot of things." Dawn began walking up the attic stairs and Angel followed, waiting for her to say something. When she didn't, he said, "Buffy was right."  
  
Dawn didn't stop moving. "About what?"  
  
"You. Me. Us. The day of the Ascension, we were gathering weapons and she looked me in the eye and shook her head. I asked what was up, and she just said, 'You have no idea how much you remind me of my sister sometimes. Two peas in a stubborn pod.' I didn't understand what she meant until now."  
  
"Buffy wanted you to take care of me," Dawn said, kneeling on the attic floor beside a old wooden chest. "What's in here?"  
  
"Some of my journals."  
  
"From your days as a vampire," Dawn said knowingly.  
  
"Dawn," Angel said softly, "I still *am* a vampire."  
  
"You know what I mean," she looked at him carefully. "Can I read one?"  
  
"Absolutely not." he walked across the room and brought her a fireproof safety deposit box.  
  
"What's that?" she asked.  
  
"These," he said, unlocking the combination, "Are letters from Buffy to me. I thought maybe you'd wanna read them. But I want them back."  
  
"I can't read those now," Dawn handed the box back to him. "Thanks. But I can't. Maybe someday--"  
  
"They're here when you're ready," Angel relocked the box and put it back on its shelf. He was relived actually--he wasn't ready to look at them yet, either. Seeing Buffy's handwriting, reading her babbling and details about her life without him, her relationship with Fish Boy, he couldn't handle it right now.  
  
"We should go," Dawn said. "I should get Willow up."  
  
When they knocked on the door of the bedroom Dawn had first cried in when she and Willow had arrived at the hotel, they found the Witch asleep on the bed, still wearing her shoes.  
  
"She fell asleep crying," Dawn whispered. "I see it in her eyes. Will," she nudged her. "Willow, wake up."  
  
"Dawn?" Willow sat up and rubbed her eyes. "I dozed off. I need to talk to Angel..."  
  
"It's okay," Angel said soothingly. "We'll talk later."  
  
"Angel?" a familiar British voice called downstairs.  
  
"Giles?" Willow asked, her eyes widening.  
  
Dawn raced down the stairs and Angel followed, with Willow bringing up the rear. Standing just inside Angel Investigations was the entire Scooby Gang.  
  
And Spike. His eyes were still rimmed with blood, and Angel realized that he'd been crying. He suddenly hated his enemy a tiny bit less.  
  
"What are you all doing here?" Willow asked, instantly looking to Giles for answers.  
  
"It's Buffy's will," Xander explained. "And these." he handed Dawn, Willow and Angel each a letter. "There's one for Cordy, too."  
  
"Where was this?" Dawn asked, staring at Buffy's familiar handwriting.  
  
"In her weapons chest. It was with the will. She told me about it before. Just in case...."  
  
"She wanted it read in front of everyone," Giles explained. "I'm afraid considering the circumstances we were a bit anxious."  
  
"I understand. There's a board room through here. We'll use that," Angel led the way and the others followed.  
  
"I'll call Cordelia," Xander volunteered. "She's a part of this, too."  
  
"Willow, would you happen to know how to get in touch with Oz?" Giles asked. "We found a letter for him as well. It was separate from the others, loose in the chest as well as the ones for Anya and Tara."  
  
"He's in Canada, I think," Willow sniffled and tried to think. "I could try to write, but it'll take a while."  
  
"I believe she would've liked him to be at the funeral," Giles said gently.  
  
"I'll do my best."  
  
Ten minutes later, Cordy joined the others in the boardroom. Sniffling and staring at the floor, they waited while Xander tore open the large envelope.  
  
He pulled out a stack of papers as well as a smaller manila envelope addressed to Wesley.  
  
"That's strange," Cordelia said.  
  
"She put a lot of thought into this," Willow said. "It's strange."  
  
"She knew," Angel said quietly. All eyes were on him, so he added, "She knew she was going to die. She saw it coming, so she made the time to do this."  
  
No one said anything for awhile. Then, finally, Xander picked up the will and began reading.  
  
"I don't know how wills are written because I've never done one before. I can't believe I'm doing one now at the distant age of twenty. That's old for a Slayer though, isn't it Giles? I'm practically a geriatric by their standards.  
  
"I'm going to make things simple for everyone. Giles, I want you to move into my mother's house. The forms are here for you to take over the mortgage, and I've got all the insurance handled, too. I think my mom's lawyer thought I was planning a suicide or something with all the paperwork I had him draw up.  
  
"That house will be yours forever. Please don't think of it as invading our space or something creepy like that. I loved that house. I want you to have it because it should hold happy memories for you. And it will keep the house in the hands of someone I trust to take care of it until Dawn's old enough to take on the responsibility herself.  
  
"As for Dawn, I'm leaving her custody up to you guys. Angel or Giles, it's her decision. Whatever she chooses, you'll both have to live with it. All those forms are here, too. Angel, I had Willy make you a birth certificate. Looks pretty good if you don't mind being forty-one already."  
  
Angel couldn't help smiling at that part. Buffy was always thinking of everything.  
  
"Giles, I need you to understand why I'm doing things this way," Xander continued, "You, Dawn and Angel are the only family I have. I love you all so much, and that's why I can see Dawn wanting to live with both of you. Maybe it'll be like one of those joint-custody deals. I don't know. I don't care, as long as she's happy. That's all I care about.  
  
"That's all I ever cared about.  
  
"I want to be buried in the cross Angel gave me the night we met, and the Claddagh ring he gave me for my seventeenth birthday. Both are in the nightstand by my bed. If you're reading this after my funeral, Spike, Xander get ready to do some digging, because if I don't get what I want, my ghostly self will haunt you for eternity. And I snore."  
  
Xander laughed. It felt completely wrong and completely right at the same time. He wished he could just make all of this go away.  
  
"Willow, Xander, Cordy, help watch over each other. The Scoobies are divided forever now. I don't wanna meet any more of you up here for a really, really long time, okay?  
  
"I guess that's it. Read your letters. Take care of each other. I love you all. Buffy Anne Summers. The luckiest Slayer in history."  
  
Xander set the pile of papers down and sighed. "Wow."  
  
"We really shoulda waited to do this," Cordy said. "I can't even think right now, I know Dawn can't."  
  
"No it's good," she said slowly. "It's good that I know."  
  
"I need a nap," Willow announced.  
  
The group split up, most of them taking rooms in the hotel. Angel went to his apartment and everyone knew better than to disturb him. Cordelia took Wesley's letter and headed for the small apartment he still kept on the other side of town.  
  
"Cordelia," he squinted when he opened the door wearing his fuzzy blue bathrobe. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"It's from Buffy," Cordy held out the letter. "I have one too. I thought maybe we could....you know, open them together. I'm pretty surprised she even wrote me at all. I always thought she hated me. She didn't even tell me goodbye when I left for LA."  
  
"You left in the middle of the night without giving your friends so much as a hint of a notice of your destination or your departure," Wesley pointed out.  
  
"Can I come in or not?" Cordy asked.  
  
Wesley held the door open and Cordelia followed him. She settled on his ratty couch while he took the beanbag chair, a $2 bargain at a garage sale last month. Cordy took a deep breath and opened her letter.  
  
Wesley studied her handwriting, the envelope size, and its weight before opening it up.  
  
"Ready?" Cordelia asked. "Set. Go."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
It wasn't until the next day, when everyone was headed back for Sunnydale to prepare Buffy's funeral, that anyone saw Angel. He came out of his room wearing the same clothes he'd had on since returning from Pylea and asked, "Can I hitch a ride?"  



End file.
